


Truth and Clarity in Action

by TheBlackberry



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Duress and Egress spoilers?, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon Fix-It, protective Asher Mir, protective Eris Morn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackberry/pseuds/TheBlackberry
Summary: Asher Mir is dying. Eris is determined to save him—Vex, Taken, Darkness, Bungie, and Beyond Light expansion be damned.
Relationships: Asher Mir & Eris Morn, Asher Mir & Ikora, Asher Mir & Original Character, Happy endings/Asher Mir
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Eris knew her cousin was dying. 

Asher Mir, a Guardian like she was, had been part of a fireteam, just as she had been. They were attacked. They fought. They did not win. The enemy—in Asher’s case, the Vex, and in Eris’s, the Hive—won. They killed their friends, their fireteam, and they experimented on the survivors. They took Asher’s arm. They took Eris’s eyes.   
But Eris escaped. She showed them the price of taking her sight. She took three of their eyes in return. Behind the veil she kept wrapped around her brow, they still glowed a soft green.

Asher had also escaped, and his arm had also been replaced. But its terrible cost was one only he felt, for the Vex used the appendage to infect the rest of him. Slowly, painfully, and inevitably. 

It was not known to either the vast knowledge of the warlock scholars or Ikora’s Hidden exactly what would happen when the Vex arm eventually overcame Asher, only that it would mean his end. Himself a warlock, a researcher, and a scientist, Asher studied the Vex like his life depended on it, because it did. 

Eris read his writings, the data collected from his research. She was the only one he allowed to do so. He wrote of feeling the infection under his skin. It was irritating, enflamed, and relentless. Her heart would shudder and ache when he wrote, with fear, of his speculation that his lungs would be corrupted next. 

Eris refused to let her cousin die. 

She refused with the same hatred and desperation that helped her survive the Hellmouth, the deathsong, and the hordes of Hive. The same stubborn rage that kept her from succumbing to the lies of the Darkness, the wretched guilt over the fate of her fireteam, and the hopeless despair that told her everything she did was in vain. 

She no longer had human eyes, but she saw right through the distractions and kept her gaze ever fixated on what was valuable, what was precious. Truth. The Light. Love. Life.   
Rumors flew among the younger Guardians and the ignorant that Eris Morn was herself like the Darkness, twisted by hatred and pain. It was true she had suffered much, and it had irreversibly changed her. But the strength that refused to be extinguished, that let her hold onto life with a white knuckled grip, and the anguish in her voice was none other than the love of Eris Morn. She loved her fireteam, her Ghost, the survivors of humanity, Ikora, the Light, the Traveler, Asher Mir. Her love was not gentle, but it was genuine and sweeping, unstoppable as a torrential flood through a dry wadi. It was a love that took the form of wrath. The Vex would not know what was coming.

Practically speaking, however, Eris knew it was not that simple. She had spent her Risen life fighting the Hive, hearing their screeches and whispers and songs. Seeing through their eyes. The Vex were all but a mystery to her, with their machinoforming, their robotic forms, the streams of data and mindlinks. The only ones who might truly claim to know the Vex were Asher himself and Osiris. Osiris was a Warlock from the opposite end of the spectrum as Asher—where Asher busied himself with calculations, research, hypotheses, experimentation, and raw data, Osiris studied in a more mystical sense. He looked at the timelines, possible futures, and from the big picture tried to predict the Vex. He offered no leads for reversing Asher’s doom. And Asher, while he made progress, had yet to discover any formula that made a difference in his fate. Besides, he would refuse to involve anyone. The loss of the two Hunters who had been on his fireteam weighed heavily within him, Eris knew. She carried a similar burden. At times like a great stone, crushing her internal organs, and at others like a gaping pit, a vast emptiness and loss that could not be filled. Every memory of her fireteam brought with tormenting repetition the sounds of their last cries, and questioning of her actions. What she might have done differently, or how she might have acted earlier, or any scenario she might have put into play that would have saved them. 

She knew Asher would resist any offer of help for himself, because he was convinced that by keeping someone from taking this one risk on his behalf, it might in some small way alleviate the guilt felt at all other moments. 

Eris would scoff at the notion. The bitterness in her tone, of course, being a reflection of her love. It was selfishness on his part to seek respite in closing himself off from others.   
“Trauma is an unrelenting beast. It never quite leaves our side,” Eris had told the younger Guardians when they came to help her fight back the Hive on the moon. “But that doesn’t mean we owe it a damn thing.”

Eris was going to save her cousin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher recalls happier times.

Asher suspected he was dreaming. Granted, it was not nearly as unpleasant an experience as he was used to. Since the incident, his nightmares would be filled with memories of the Vex, of their grasping claws, incomprehensible whirring, and unblinking, unchanging red eyes. Afterward, he would wake up shuddering and grasping at his infected shoulder, where he felt the machinoforming spreading ever more. 

If he was particularly unlucky, his dreams would cause him to relive the sight of his fireteam being ripped apart. No matter how he shook his head to wake himself, the images of carnage would remain just behind his eyelids.

This dream was not like those, although something told him it was a memory all the same. He was in the Last City. He was smaller...no, younger. Looking down, he saw that both hands were flesh and blood. His skin, light blue and shimmering slightly in the weak sunlight, was astonishingly smooth and unwrinkled.

Asher, as a general rule, scorned that which was not based in reality. But he decided that as long as he slept, this was not the worst dream to have.

He looked around. The mountains towering above the Last City were coated with winter’s snowfall, and gleaming in the cold sun. He surmised that it was not yet spring, though he could smell the fresh earth and hear a flock of robins nesting nearby.

How unusual for a dream to have such sensory details, he thought to himself. Perhaps that was something he could study, if he ever got the chance. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he was running out of time.

He turned, deciding to explore the City, and was filled with a sudden satisfaction when he recognized the streets. It was a poorer neighborhood, as Awoken communities generally were in the City, but for him it was home. He looked down the narrow alleys, remembering which turns he would take to race into the local market. In late summer, their stalls would be full of fruits and berries, and sometimes fresh pastries. He may or may not have used his extensive knowledge of different subjects and general obnoxiousness to distract enough vendors that he and his cousin could enjoy some well-earned treats.

The neighborhood was built on the edges of the great metropolis, fairly close to the wall that the Vanguard had spent so many years building. They did not have as much reliable transportation to the City center, so much of their business was conducted locally—in little markets, small businesses, wells, and fields. Child-Asher walked underneath clotheslines that waved like banners in the morning breeze, past shops that were just opening, and neighbors who stood by their doorways sweeping the entrances or just soaking up the sun. A few of them called out, wishing him good morning, and Asher waved in return. He could half-remember some faces, though something told him none of these people were around anymore.

As he kept walking, his mind began to recall and make connections between the roads, and he recognized where he was heading. It was a path he traveled often in his first life, one that led to a library. Though tiny by City standards, it had books on enough fascinating subjects he spent hours of his childhood there and could hardly bear to leave. He was determined to read all of them, to learn all there was to know about Earth and the other planets colonized in humanity’s Gold Age, and all the discoveries that Golden Age scientists had made over the centuries.

“Asher!”

Asher whirled, a lop-sided grin taking over his face when he saw who had called. His cousin Eris rushed to walk alongside him. Her loose copper hair swept across her face, and her cheeks were a bright pink. Hastily, she tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Eris, what are you doing?” Asher noticed that though the air was brisk enough to make his breath fog, she wore no coat.

“Coming with you,” she shrugged.

“I was under the impression your interest in the library was insignificant.”

“Just because I don’t read about what you do doesn’t mean I don’t like to read.”

“Hm,” Asher said with a scowl. “And what possessed you to come charging out here with such insufficient layering?”

“Forgot my coat,” Eris grunted.

Asher rolled his eyes, shrugging off his own coat. It was made of worn leather, with soft white fleece on the inside. He tried to keep up the scowl as he wrapped it around his cousin’s shoulders, and he was mostly successful at hiding his shiver as his arms were suddenly exposed to the less-than-comfortable temperatures.

Eris would know better than to thank him and make him feel awkward for the show of generosity. So she only smiled and, with small, pink fingers, grasped his hand as they continued down the street.

Though their family was mixed—Eris was human and Asher Awoken—he thought sometimes that she understood him better than almost anyone else he knew. 

Not long later, the two reached the library. It was an old building, with a sloping roof and faded glass windows. The wooden door creaked noisily as Asher nudged it open. Inside, it smelled of dust and paper. Immediately, Asher headed for a corner of the building where he knew all his in-progress books were shelved. Eris would head for a different corner, and there they would stay until one of them got tired or hungry.

Despite how smoothly the morning was going, Asher soon found himself interrupted. Having finished the first volume in a series by a Warlock scientist, he noticed a distinct lack of any continuing volumes on the shelf, so he resigned himself to asking the library clerk for more information. The old lady at the clerk’s desk, with spectacles so big and round they obscured the better half of her face, quickly got up to look for the misplaced volume.

As Asher waited, he noticed two other boys beside the desk, watching him. They were about his age, but they were human, and they did not hide their glares.  
Asher ignored them. As the clerk returned with the book, he thanked her and proceeded to return to his comfortable corner.

The boys followed him.

Asher looked up then, and realized that the boys were counting on them being out of sight of the old clerk, the only adult in the building at the moment, and he knew what was coming.

“What do you want?” He sighed.

“You should leave,” One of the boys said. “Your kind shouldn’t hang around places we normal folk gather.”

The second boy snickered.

“If by normal you mean inanely idiotic, then trust me, I am doing my best to keep my distance,” Asher retorted.

The book was smacked out of his hands.

“You know what I mean,” the first boy hissed, face turning red. “Awoken. People who abandoned Earth during the Great Collapse, and who became servants of the Darkness.”

“Servants? Please. Not even the Reef can be accused of that. Maybe if you spent more of your time here actually reading history, you’d know this,” Asher paused. “Assuming you have knowledge of how to read somewhere inside your empty skulls.”

He reeled as the boy’s fist collided with his cheekbone. His head hit the nearby shelf and was filled with the sound of ringing. Quickly, Asher tried to bring up his own fists in response. But his eyes had begun to water with the pain, and he could not see clearly.

Another blow hit him in the shins. Desperately, he tried to keep his balance. If he was knocked to the ground, he could forget about being able to defend himself adequately.  
He swung, but it was easily dodged. One of them laughed. Asher wished he did not feel the shame burned with the awareness of his failure, or the fear from being outnumbered. These ignoramuses were not worth the emotion, he told himself. But he could not help it.

Then, the boy stopped laughing. There was a flash of red in Asher’s vision, and he watched as the human boy was knocked down. On his knees, he clutched his middle where he’d been struck.

Eris whirled, fury written out on her face. She stood between Asher and the second boy, who now looked uncertain. It was one thing to target a lone Awoken kid when he had back-up. It was another thing entirely when his back-up was gasping on the floor, and the Awoken kid was now being protected by an enraged-looking girl.

With a sneer, the boy decided to leave. He turned to help up his accomplice, then dashed away.

Eris stuck her tongue out at their backs as they fled.

Suddenly, Asher could not help but chuckle despite the bruises he could feel forming.

“Bullies are always true to their reputation as cowards,” he said as Eris looked at him quizzically. “One of the scientific constants of the universe.”

Eris rolled her eyes, but her freckled face lit up with a smile. “I’m no scientist, but even I can attest to that.”

When Asher woke up, he could still feel the laugh inside his chest. But all memory of the dream quickly faded, faster than a snowflake over an open flame. He became accustomed to his surroundings once more. He was in his camp on Io, and he was alone.

He coughed, still feeling something in his chest. He sat up. It irritated his lungs. His shoulder burned, and he instinctively grasped at it with his remaining hand. So. It had spread enough to interfere with his breathing. How much longer until he bled radiolaria, or until he felt nothing at all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Guardians cannot remember their first lives, before they became Guardians. But it is not impossible that those memories still exist, such as in dreams that are quickly forgotten. 
> 
> Plus I just really wanted to write about tiny Eris and Asher, as adorable kids who get into trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eris has a breakthrough.

Eris took a breath and concentrated on letting it fill her chest. When she could hold no more, she let it out slowly. At once she felt calmer and a renewed strength in her veins. She found it helpful to focus on her breathing whenever the whispers of the lost ever grew too loud…which they did often on the moon. The echoes of long-perished Guardians, taking the form of shadowy red phantoms, tended to gather thick around her.

They did not know they were dead. Sometimes they called out for help. Sometimes they cried out in anguish as they replayed their last memories. But there was nothing she could do; they were only echoes. After a few moments, they would usually fade into the shadows. Eris was lucky, she knew, that she did not recognize most of them. Then again, she did not need the phantoms to remind her of her fireteam—of her friends.

She straightened her back ever so slightly as she sat cross-legged on the ground of her camp, poring over faded manuscripts and obscure writings in leather. Much of it consisted of her own notes, scratched hastily in the margins of ancient Hive texts. Eris could read their script quite fluently, and she scanned for words that caught her interest. It was their rituals and magic that would be the most useful. She had lost a great deal to the evil, death-worshiping Hive and yet, to study them brought a strange sense of purpose as she probed their beliefs and history for weaknesses.

This was not to say it was an easy task. Very often, Eris came away from a text that seemed even more obscure after studying it than before. Detecting the beginnings of a headache, the Hunter felt it was going to be one of those days. She was almost grateful when her camp was suddenly intruded upon by a couple of young Guardians. Unlike any of the Vanguard bases, her camp was a simple area, where a rough woven rug was spread out in the effort to make it more comfortable, and a short desk was piled with Hive artifacts. Still, the Guardians’ body language betrayed apprehension as they shifted at the edges of her station, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Why have you come?” Eris got right to the point. She knew her company was not enjoyed, that her dark words and green eyes were unsettling to most. There was a reason that had compelled these two to approach.

The Guardian who stood slightly closer, a Titan, held out a bundle of leather bound in twine. “These.”

Eris waited.

“We thought, uh,” The Titan’s companion, a Hunter, spoke up. “Well, we found these. They look like Hive texts. We…didn’t know what else to do with them.”

Eris took the bundle, unrolling one page. The glyphs would have been hard to make out in the low light, but her eyes had no trouble at all. She saw instantly that the text was describing unusual rituals, though there were a lot of new words to her as well. It gave her an idea. 

“Hm,” It was almost whispered, but it was her equivalent of letting out a gasp. “Where did you find them?”

“N-near the Hellmouth.”

Eris bared her teeth. The same location she and her fireteam made their fateful descent so many years ago, and only she returned. Crota is dead now, she reminded herself. The only ones that fill the Hellmouth now are the straggling, leaderless Hivespawn and the phantoms.

“Thank you,” She managed, setting the leather down onto the short desk. Some small part of the clutter was shoved off onto the ground. “You may go.”

The Guardians seemed glad to do so, although the Hunter glanced behind once, as though expressing some kind of pity for her.

Eris concentrated on the new texts. They could be the breakthrough that she needed if she could decipher them successfully. And it would be best to verify that the new Guardians had not missed anything essential by conducting her own search at the Hellmouth.

She reached for her nearby bag, strapping on a long knife.

Sometime later, she stood before the cavern emanating a low green light, that served as the entrance to the ancient temple on the moon. She could not help but remember its long, jagged staircases leading ever downwards, rot collecting in the corners and the unrelenting, pervading sound of worms. Hundreds of worms.

Eris did not get so close as to be in sight of anything inside the entrance to the Hellmouth, and for now all was quiet. It was unlikely that there would be any Hive guarding the temple considering the recent Guardian patrols, but Eris took no chances and wasted no trust.

For the remainder of the day—for what counted as day on the moon—she scoured the crevices of the rocks surrounding the entrance. There were some ruins here and there, and plenty of bones. Phosphorescent crystals evidenced where some creatures had tried to light a path or create a kind of camp. 

At last, Eris’s eyes picked up on something the Guardians had missed. She only saw it because the glyphs were somehow more visible to her unnatural eyes, shining out despite being obscured by solid rock. With all of her strength, Eris pulled back the stone that buried the text. A collection of pages smaller than even the one that the Titan had brought to her, but it contained promising information. 

Spells. Incantations. Things she could understand.

This, Eris thought as she pulled out the leather and carefully scanned each line of script. This, perhaps, may be a sharper blade against the enemy than any that the Guardians carried. To pit what was called Hive magic against Vex science may accomplish what till now has seemed impossible. 

She was the bane of the swarm. She had sworn her revenge on Crota and dedicated her life to ending the Hive who had taken everything from her. How could she find hope in their magic when it was such magic that had caused untold suffering? For Eris, that was all the more reason to use it. In the hands of the Hive, it had accomplished evil, but in her hands, it would be forced to protect what she loved.

A distant shriek caused her head to snap up, immediately alert. Thrall were on their way. 

Eris grimaced and reached for her weapons. Her fingers were trembling. There would be no resurrections, and the thrall were fast. If she was surrounded, she would be done for. Yet there was no room for fear. There was trauma, yes, and desperation. Every fiber of Eris’s being shuddered in the throes of loss, but she was stubborn. All that pain she was determined to channel into defiance, and win. Anything they threw at her, she would throw back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha, now we're getting somewhere with operation: stop the vex!
> 
> There is not a ton of information in the lore about how Hive magic works. I know in the Shadowkeep campaign Eris uses spells, so at least some magic is usable by humans.   
> There was also a very important explanation of Hive glyphs which I am basing basically this whole idea on from a scan-able object on Titan (in the Tidal Anchor area). Since Titan is no longer accessible, I may try to include a transcript or scrounge around for a link to add if anyone is interested.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter. Asher and Eris disagree about stuff.

Eris,  
I am sending you the recent data on Vex metaphysics and the ontological properties of radiolaria. I must point out that it is highly unusual of you to take an interest in these beings while concentrating on clearing out Earth’s moon. Nevertheless, I await the results of your research. I myself am pressing on, as I feel time growing short.   
Truth in action,   
Asher

Asher,  
I returned to the Hellmouth. The phantoms smothered me, and the thrall attempted to swarm me, but I cut them down, and have added to their casualties. I have had the strength to do it, Asher, because in the secrets of their rituals and practices is the key to undoing what the Vex have done. I am protecting the moon, but neither have I forgotten about you.  
Clarity in action,  
Eris

Eris,   
I must insist that you cease such reckless research at once. The Hive are an evil and powerful cult and their ‘magic,’ such as it is, cannot hold any answers. My condition is my own curse. You are putting yourself at risk in vain.  
Truth in action,  
Asher

Asher,  
This letter may find you late, though I wrote it as soon as I could. You may not have experience with the Hive, but I do. You once asked me if I felt any kind of admiration for them. They are able to accomplish much with the magic they wield. They foolishly use it for Darkness and to support their dull obsessions with death. I intend to use the weapons of my enemy to destroy them instead.  
Clarity in action,   
Eris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best but it is incredibly difficult to try and imitate their voices and how they write.   
> But anyway.  
> Here is the explanation for the title of this work! Turns out Asher and Eris are huge nerds who sign their letters in cheesy ways like "truth in action" and "clarity in action."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New character time! Eris may have just convinced Asher to consider her plan.

As one of the Hidden, Shua was used to missions that were less than glamorous. He worked for Ikora, the Warlock Vanguard, as a stealth and reconnaissance specialist. He gathered information for her, undeterred by the danger present in all the fought-over territories of the system while remaining largely unknown and uncelebrated by other Guardians or the rest of the City. That was the life of a Hidden, and he had accepted it. His belief in Ikora’s work and his loyalty to her were enough for him.  
What he did not sign up for was working with the Warlock known as the Gensym Scribe, Asher Mir. Yet that was the task his Vanguard leader had entrusted him with.

“Should never have told Ikora about how far it spread,” Asher muttered under his breath, not quietly enough to be polite.

Shua gritted his teeth but forced an answer. “I’m not happy about it either, Asher, but Ikora won’t let this rest until there’s something to show for it. If you’d just let me take a look at your arm—”

“You’ve seen it then, are you satisfied?” Asher waved briefly with the Vex appendage. It flashed a dark bronze, looking all the more unnatural because of its three fingers and slightly greater length than a normal arm.  
Turning his back on the Hidden, Asher continued labeling vials, which he placed in small crates that occupied his area of Io. It was a small but messy camp, with scientific instruments and books and documents of all kinds stacked in corners. A large lean-to had been constructed against the yellowish rock of the planet, and even the sleeping mat underneath it had been littered with equipment. Wires that conducted some kind of energy—Shua guessed it had to do with radiolaria, as many of them connected to a nearby pool of the oddly shimmering liquid—ran through the moss and pebbles underfoot.

“I meant I need a close look,” Shua sighed. He edged forward. The Gensym Scribe still bent over his work, ignoring him. “Ikora will want details. What were your exact symptoms when you sent her your report?”

His question was met with some incomprehensible muttering. Then, “I fail to see what possible difference this will make in your inane investigation. Some weeks after I could feel it in my lungs, I cut my finger and saw radiolaria rather than blood. That was when I notified Ikora, and that is all there is to it. Now leave, you are getting in my way!”

Shua wanted to do just that. He could not fathom the fondness Ikora had for Asher to make her worry about a man this cantankerous and acerbic. But Shua also could not deny being a little curious about the afflicted Warlock’s condition and determined to give it one more try.  
As he considered how he might do this, Asher suddenly hissed, and there was a clatter as he let the edge of a crate fall back to the ground.

“Asher?” Shua knelt on the other side of the crate, looking for a way to help.

“It’s nothing,” the Warlock replied softly. “Too much weight. Strained the nerves…”

Shua stared at Asher’s arm, and his sharp eyes noticed a slight twitching in the metal fingers. Without really thinking, he reached forward. 

Asher pulled away abruptly. “Keep your distance, Hidden. I am not a museum specimen! Go back to the Tower if you want to make yourself useful, though I sincerely doubt that’s possible.”

Shua opened his mouth, getting ready to retort something about the value of his work as one of the Hidden, when one of the perimeter sensors pinged. He looked up to see who was approaching. After a brief moment of shock, his heart sank.

Eris Morn.

The first thing he always noticed about her were her three eyes and the strange black tears that ran down her pale face. Her mouth was often fixed in a sneer—he’d heard her decry other Warlock scholars as fools on more than one occasion, then rave about the horrors of the Darkness her cursed eyes were supposedly able to see more clearly than anyone else. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether she was more Hive or Guardian.

He could not imagine any reason for her to want to see Asher, or vice versa. They were both legendary figures, but in the wrong way. Stubborn, unpredictable, and if he was honest, quite frightening. In all likelihood, an encounter between Eris and Asher may lead to only one of them walking away alive. Shua took several steps back.

“Ah, Eris,” Asher stood, leaving behind his work on the vials he had been labeling and organizing. He straightened his back as Eris approached, running a hand—his own hand—through his hair. “I was not expecting you so soon. Your communications failed to reveal much of anything about your location. But I am…not displeased to see you.”

Shua wondered if he had to clean his ears. Asher was sounding, well, civil.

“I have been busy…and I have had much on my mind,” Eris’s voice was deep. She nodded as she spoke to Asher, but let her gaze roam around the site. Shua shuddered despite himself when her glowing eyes fixed on him.

“What business have you with the Hidden?”

“Tch, more than I’d like,” Asher waved a hand absently. “Ikora thinks I need help.”

“She is right more often than you care to admit.”

Shua almost winced at the bluntness of her tone. If Eris’s unannounced arrival did not somehow aggravate Asher, then her lack of tact very well may set him over the edge.

“The infection has increased then?” Eris took Asher’s right hand, large and metal though it was, in her own. With her other arm she drew back the sleeve draped over his shoulder, concealing where the prosthetic joined with flesh.

Shua’s eyes widened and he stifled a gasp. Asher would not even let him look at the arm, let alone touch it. How would he react to this blatant disregard for boundaries?

He saw Warlock tense, yet he did not snatch his hand away, or retaliate, or shout some ill-tempered curse or anything that Shua might have expected. Instead, Asher hung his head slightly, mouth wavering somewhere between a grimace and a smile.  
“You are as perceptive as ever, I’m afraid.”

Eris let his hand go.

“But it changes nothing,” Asher lifted his chin, regaining some of his regularly sharp tone. “I cannot support whatever unknown research you have decided to meddle with, Eris, as I told you before.”

“And as I’ve told you, you cannot stop me,” Eris turned, pulling a dark leather bag out from underneath her cloak, and opened it. She drew a handful of thick pages from inside. Shua recognized them as Hive in origin. He had gone on one or two missions on the moon himself.  
She handed them to Asher, who glanced curiously at the markings upon them.  
“It is common knowledge that the Hive use magic, and this magic is closely connected with their script. It is believed that in their own realm, a Hive glyph representing something is the same as it existing. To write ‘death’ onto a substance is to make it die.”

“Good for them,” Asher shook his head distastefully. He handed the pages back to Eris. “I still don’t see what relevance this has for this realm, where we conduct real science and observe data, and don’t waste time with magic.”

“Be that as it may, Asher, it works. They have used this magic many times in their conquest of our home.”

“All the more reason to cease this endeavor!”

“These pages are different,” Eris held up the bag again. “I have found written on them new glyphs, such that would topple the power of the Vex.”

Asher looked as though he wanted to speak, but all that ensued was silence. He glanced down at his right arm.  
“Impossible,” He whispered.

He looked up again as Eris held both his hands.

“I know you doubt magic,” she said. “But do not doubt me. I am keeping my promise to protect you, cousin.”

Shua jolted at the last word. Now he knew for sure he’d have to check his hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be upfront here, this new character Shua only exists so I could write this scene between Asher and Eris from an outside perspective. He doesn't originate from the game and he's not meant to be impressive. 
> 
> I do not know much about the Hidden, although the lore that mentions them associates them closely with Ikora. I also found out after I wrote this chapter, from a video by Byf, that Eris used to be one of the Hidden before she descended into the Hellmouth. We'll just ignore that fact for now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter. Step one of the plan commences—time to see some action on Io!

Asher had looked over the wrinkled and quite frankly pungent leather documents countless times over the course of the morning. He studied the glyphs, the pattern of the text, and every marking in between until he was satisfied that he had given thought to everything that was written. Still, he narrowed his eyes and tapped his foot and muttered and ran a hand through his backswept white hair.

It made him nervous. A problem like the one he’d dealt with for the past handful of years rarely had a solution so straightforward. And while he would not call dealing with the Hive and their nefarious mysticism an easy task, it was nevertheless founded on an unsettlingly simple theorem.  
Using the destructive power of the Hive to cancel out the destructive power of the Vex.

It hinged on what could be determined about the nature of radiolaria, the organic liquid that somehow was the Vex and also fueled the Vex. It was the reason he had not merely amputated the foreign prosthetic, for physically removing the metal arm fused to his shoulder would not erase the alien fluid’s access to his own biological system. It was not well understood, even by him, but it seemed evident that the radiolaria was somehow like a mind, or a source of knowledge and communication for the Vex. Where it flowed freely, so did their power. Thus, the true enemy was the radiolaria.

The weapon in question, then, was the reality-causing glyphs which Eris brought. A special form of the word for silence, among others, had shown up on the recently discovered texts, suggesting a way to render the ontologically biointelligent radiolaria inert. From there, it was then a matter of removing the physical Vex elements.   
Asher had to admit he saw the logic, yet it was far from his standard of a reliable or sound procedure, not to mention that it was untested and uncharted territory.

Asher noticed himself pacing and stopped. With deliberation, he set the leather texts down among a collection of other documents within his camp, where they would be safe from blowing away in the lowland winds of Io. Across from him, Eris sat calmly. She was cross-legged and completely silent, a posture Asher assumed to be meditation of some sort. Then again, she may have been sleeping, but it was difficult to tell considering her eyes never closed. The Gensym Scribe let himself stare a moment longer. His cousin chose to await his decision regarding her plan peacefully, which he both appreciated and admired. He took a breath to stave off the sudden wave of gratitude he felt. Eris Morn, suffering a similar fate to his, never forgot or gave up on him. She had gone through all the trouble to find this chance for a cure, and she believed in it.

Asher suddenly shook his head, irritated at himself. He was a scientist! Uncharted territory was his way of life. Experimental methods to fight back against the Darkness were an unrivaled passion. On top of that, he was getting pretty darned tired at this point of being terminally infected. He preferred more concrete scientific methods, sure, but this was perhaps that best chance that had offered itself in all the time that he’d been working on a cure. What was he waiting for? How could he be afraid when a terrible fate awaited him if he did nothing? When his cousin had already bravely done so much for him?

He knelt, briefly placing a hand on her shoulder.  
“After some consideration,” he cleared his throat, trying not to let everything he felt spill out in his voice. “Your suggestion appears to make the most sense.”

Eris inclined her head toward him.

“For optimal results, however,” Asher held up a finger and straightened his back. Resuming his ordinary bossiness instantly put him more at ease. “I recommend finding a test subject first. Experiment with a minor Vex underling and try writing the glyph on the radiolaria. From there, we can revise the theory as needed.”

The corners of Eris’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but diminishing all traces of her semi-permanent frown.  
“To the hunt, then.”

~

The wind had picked up by the time Asher, Eris, and the Hidden—Asher did not care to recall his name—were prepared to make their trek into the wilderness of Io in order to find a suitable Vex test subject.  
The ground of Io was rough, unstable, and rocky. Deep crevices stretched out where the ground fell away, and the thin soil only supported a few hardy shrubs. Most of the rock striations were colored a pale yellow, though several layers of deep blue were interspersed throughout, creating a mottled landscape. From among the boulders sprouted small geysers, puffing out steam which was quickly shredded by the wind and smelled strongly of sulfur.

There was something about Io that spoke to an ancient and grand beauty—towering above even the largest boulders and roping around steep cliffsides were magnificent, white-barked trees. Each leafless limb creaked and swayed, while the thick, tumbling roots arched and twisted across the ground. Here and there, a fallen trunk had been hollowed out as it decayed, creating a log nearly twice the height and many times the width of a human being. Most spectacular of all were the enormous, fossilized remains of ancient giants, the majority of which appeared to have been invertebrate creatures with circular, arthropod-like shells. But a larger and far more serpentine creature had once inhabited the dusty blue and yellow rocks of the moon. Half of an old ribcage jutted out from beneath a cliff like a row of curved teeth. In another area, a spine was wrapped around several geysers at once and the wind sweeping through its every hole and gap created an eerie, whistling hum in the mist.

It was a marvelous environment for a scientist. Archaeology, geology, paleontology, and many other xenological studies immediately came to Asher’s mind. Not to mention the fact that Io was the last place that the Traveler had ever transformed during the Golden Age, the last hostile planet or moon to be filled with Light, an atmosphere, and capacity for life. Sure it was rather uninhabited and far from everything else in the system, but he could not deny how interesting it was. There was just one rather significant setback to exploring, and it was also the one reason he had chosen to do his field research here for the past couple of years. The Vex. Their destructive invasion was still a present danger to anyone wandering about on the moon—them and the Taken.

Focus, Asher told himself. It was important to keep a sharp lookout for any sign of Vex that they could ambush, and the quicker the better. For this task, Eris would be in her element. She was a Hunter through and through, covering the ground quickly with light, silent footsteps. Her eyes swept about, ever watchful, and now and then she paused to study some scattered stones, or a patch of bruised, purple wildflowers. Something about her energy told Asher they were getting close, and he frequently scanned his equipment, which included a radar for detecting any nearby movement and an -ometer of some kind that picked up on spikes of energy. They were small enough that he could carry them on a long hike without too much trouble, although he did notice Eris giving him a doubtful stare.

The three travelers walked single file along a particularly greenish-yellow ledge jutting out from a mound of stone. It was not precariously narrow, but the drop to the side was one that pretty much guaranteed there would be no getting up afterward.

Ahead, Eris slowed down and Asher paused, alert. Behind them, the Hidden trudged under the heavier weight of more of Asher’s experiments and tools. In all honesty, it was the only reason Asher agreed to bring him along instead of sending him back to the Tower.

“Tracks,” Eris murmured softly.

Asher swallowed. His heart raced. “How many? Are we close to our quarry?”

“They appear to belong to a pack of goblins. Two or three perhaps.”

“That should not be too much trouble. Let us proceed!”

Before long, the path atop the ledge led away from the steep drop into the mists and back onto wider, safer ground. The deep claw marks made from metal Vex feet were more distinct in the deeper soil.

“These are not old. The stench of the Vex still clings to the imprint,” Eris muttered.

Asher was filled with equal amounts hope and alarm. He steadied his breathing and checked his instruments again, though nothing appeared to be in range for the moment. But he was still not satisfied.

“Hidden,” he barked.

There was a sigh from behind. “Shua.”

“Fine, whatever. Shoe. Come closer, I must check the sterile-neutrino device you are carrying.”

Shua complied. It was a large device, but it was as streamlined as Asher could make it at a moment’s notice. He had not used it outside of camp, but it would be crucial to—

There was a very loud, very unwanted-sounding snap from the device as Shua was attempting to set it down and check its measurements.  
Shua froze.

Asher’s heart sank. He dropped to his knees to examine the instrument and its damage. “What in the Traveler’s name have you done?” he roared.

Shua reared up, defensive. “Just trying to do what you said, carry the heavy equipment! Maybe if it weren’t so impractical—Is it really any use in the first place?”

“Do you have any idea,” Asher spoke through his teeth. “What it means when a sizable quantity of sterile-neutrinos appears on Io? What it means for us out here?”  
He paused, watching the younger warlock hesitate.  
“It means the manifestation of dark energy colliding with this dimension and the subsequent presence of the paracausal beings who create it!”

“What?”

“Taken! It means Taken! And now,” Asher looked more closely at the dials on the instrument, tapped a screen, and sighed. “Now it has for all such intents and purposes been rendered ineffective.”

Shua’s eyes widened at the mention of Taken, and he appeared tongue-tied.

Mercifully, Eris cut in. “This changes little. We would fight the Taken as we would fight any enemy we encounter. Stay vigilant.”

“Hm,” Asher grunted. He still had some choice words for the Hidden, but Eris spoke with a commanding calm that even he listened.  
“The tracks continue over the ridge,” Eris pointed in the direction. Her three eyes flickered dimly behind the veil, searching.

Asher followed her gaze, past the ridge where the land spread out like a salt flat, filled with thicker, darker brush. At the far side of the flat, the terrain rose up again and was interrupted only by a narrow valley that looked like an old cut in the flesh of the rock.  
He glanced at his instruments again and felt a chill. There was a blip on one of the screens, near the edge where it had only just entered range. “Something is in range.”

“Our prey, no doubt,” Eris straightened slightly, drawing a handgun from her belt. Its barrel and handle were wrapped with twine and adorned with symbols and charms, precautions against Hive spells.

Asher stood and joined her behind a tall clump of dark green brush, glancing swiftly behind himself. “Draw your weapons, Hidden. Our best shot at this is an ambush.”

“I see them,” Eris whispered. “Two goblins, retracing their steps.”

“Remember, try not to hit their centers, where the radiolaria is concentrated,” Asher whispered back. “This will not work if we just kill them. Disarm, and then I can experiment.”  
He looked at his hands. They were trembling. Well, his own hand was. The prosthetic, its three long claws shining dimly, twitched. 

Why had the Vex retraced their steps? What was drawing them?

Asher did not have time to spend pondering. He unstrapped a rifle from his back, carefully making sure it was loaded. He wasn’t sure why his heart seemed so loud. A maneuver like this was fairly basic for anyone in the field. With only two targets, he and Eris could flank them while the Hidden—not that Asher relied on such a useless assistant—would spot for them. It was slightly trickier without the liberty to kill them, but once their weapons and limbs were removed, they would be totally harmless. Then, then the experiment could proceed. And after that…  
He nodded once at Eris, and the two left their cover to take down the enemy.  
The goblins didn’t stand much of a chance. Then again, reaction time was not their strongest suit, Asher thought. The Vex bodies lay on the ground, limbs in pieces, twitching and sparking, and most importantly, cores intact. The single red eye that each one had stared out in what Asher wanted to call anger, but he knew the Vex felt nothing.

Eris knelt, severing extra wires with a broad hunting blade. As she worked on one, Asher examined the other, trying to evaluate the best way to transport it. He watched the way the white fluid inside shimmered with an electric energy. This was the best opportunity to study the Vex than he’d had in years, and despite his repulsion, a fascination began to overtake him. But the experiment came first. He sighed and re-holstered his rifle, or tried to. His arm ached, and his energy seemed all but faded.

As soon as the action had ended, Shua joined them in the clearing. He kept a rifle cautiously pointed at the robotic remains.

“Do not get too close,” Asher warned, eyeing the Hidden Warlock’s trigger discipline. “Removing any more of the Vex parts, especially the head, will result in what I fear would be a distortion of radiolaria and create a self-destructive shell.”

Shua took a step back. “What do you plan to do now?”  
“Now,” Asher enunciated. “We bring these parts back to my base in the Rupture. Do you think you can manage not to break them and nullify all our hard work?” He did not wait for a response as he wrapped one of the cores in cloth and proceeded to strap it into a plain sack. The goblin head stuck out from the top in a most cumbersome manner.

Frowning, Asher considered conducting the experiment here, in the open field. It would solve the problem of transportation. But at the same time, it was a risk to be out in the open. Although he and Eris had secured their victory with relative ease, he was painfully, excruciatingly aware that neither of them had Ghosts who could resurrect them should anything go wrong.

“Asher,” Eris’s voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up, his unease growing. Eris still had her weapon drawn, her head tilting slightly in the way that indicated she was hearing or seeing something no one else could. Her dark, earthen cloak flapped in the wind. He waited.

“We had best leave this place quickly,” Was all she said, but he did not fail to notice the edge in her low voice.

“Agreed,” he muttered, hoisting the bag of Vex parts with ill-concealed effort. Shua had done the same with the second, although he appeared to struggle less.

“Onward, then. Science cannot wait!” He took a few steps forward and stumbled onto one knee. The weight of the bag on his back made him feel incredibly unbalanced, and his shoulder throbbed.

“Asher!” Shua gasped in surprise.

“Stay back,” Asher hissed, feeling humiliation burn his cheeks. Suddenly, the weight from his back was lifted and he whipped his head up, ready to yell at the Hidden for not doing as he said. But he recognized the form standing over him and holding the bag as Eris. His retorts died in his throat. He could see it was not light for her, but it also did not cause her to fall.  
“I will hear no argument about this,” She said firmly.

There was a new sensation in Asher’s throat, and at the corners of his eyes. He was not sure if he trusted himself to speak other than to mutter, “Stubborn.”   
He picked himself up off the flat, brushing mud off his Warlock cloak. All three then began to make their way back to the ridge that marked the edge of the plateau, where the trail descended around the cliff.  
When the bend was in sight, Asher paused once again. Something still did not feel right, and he checked his motion sensor almost on reflex. The radar was picking up movement ahead of them once again. Only this time, whatever it had picked up on was much larger, and there were much more of them.

He half-whispered an expletive. It was enough of a warning for Eris and the Hidden to stop and turn.

“Enemies approaching from the ledge,” He told them. “Too many to fight. We cannot go back the way we came.”

Eris nodded. “Back, toward the rocks. There is an opening where we can hide.”

With as much speed as they could muster without making sound or discarding their baggage, the three crossed the flat again in the opposite direction. Upon closer inspection, the ravine that cut through the rock wall was not as narrow as it first appeared, though it was jagged and declined gradually. There was room for all of them to enter at once, but Asher allowed the other two to pull slightly ahead of him. He found himself unable to resist a dreadful curiosity that wanted to see what it was they were hiding from.

He regretted it when he saw the shambling forms. They jerked and quivered, as though existence itself was painful. A darkness so great it seemed to swallow all light.  
Taken.

He counted five, but he knew how fast they could multiply, especially the smaller ones. They were once thrall, he guessed, despite not being able to pick up on much detail from this distance. But there was a larger one, and with hulking shoulders and a bulbous head, it was unmistakable as an ogre. The edges of their forms flickered and blurred, as if undecided whether to exist on this plane of reality. Their shrieks and muttering chilled his blood.

He then realized with horror that they had not wandered onto the plateau aimlessly, but were heading straight for the ravine he and his companions had chosen to hide in. It almost felt like the ogre was looking at him.

This cannot be, he thought. They ought to have no way of knowing where we are.

Don’t get distracted! He hurried to match the pace of Eris and Shua. The ravine continued to dip lower, and he concentrated on not stumbling on the ochre shale. Before long, the rock towering above on either side arched over the trail, blocking the view of the sky. The tunnel wound deeper into the stone, and the shadows grew. Yet there was another light source inside, a blueish-white glow streaming through cracks in the ground.

Traveler’s Light was not an uncommon sight on Io, but it offered precious little comfort now.  
As the cave widened into a sort of chamber, daylight from small cracks in the ceiling leaked through to mingle with the soft glow from within.

Eris slowed, and Asher and Shua followed suit. She did not need to voice her decision. All of them wondered whether they would be followed this far or whether they were safe.

Though the air inside the cave was quite cool, Asher felt sweat trickling down his neck. An ogre could easily finish them all off without getting close, which was to say nothing about the damage a swarm of thrall could do.

As quietly as he could, he took the rifle from his back, though he knew it would hardly make a difference if he had to use it. He could only hope it would make enough of one. Eris had said they would fight the Taken if it came to it, but he knew there was a rather significant distinction between fighting…and winning.

Inwardly, he began cursing himself. This whole foolish mission would not have happened if it were not for his insistence on retrieving Vex samples. Eris would not have come to Io to help him if he hadn’t been so weak, letting his condition deteriorate as it had.  
My fault, He gritted his teeth. What a fool I am.  
Most of all, he cursed the long, metal arm attached to him, full of nanotechnology infecting his own system. It was the true culprit. He could almost convince himself that he felt the Vex with every tendon and nerve, hear their thoughts and singular mind. If he could hear them, could they hear him? Could Taken?

Scattered howls echoed through the tunnel, followed by shrieks and the pounding of footsteps. He shuddered. They were inside, and there was little mistaking it—somehow, they were being hunted.

“Follow me,” Eris whispered harshly. She turned and headed to the far end of the chamber where the walls closed in once more and the light did not quite reach. Yet through the shadows, Asher noticed another opening. A smaller tunnel, branching off and away from the center of the chamber. There was no way to know what was inside or where it led, but the hope that sprouted at the sight was unmistakable.

He knew he was not the only one that felt that way. Shua, whose face was drawn in quiet terror, nearly leapt for the opening. Eris did not hide her haste.  
Hope is a logical fallacy, he reminded himself. It could not be relied on to save them. If the Taken truly could detect them, then there would be nothing stopping them from following even through this opening. If, however, they were only detecting him, as he suspected, then perhaps there was something he could do.

The shrieks grew louder as did the sound of a sort of scrabbling against the stone walls and loose shale.  
He hesitated at the edge of the tunnel. He could just make out Shua’s form in the darkness, and was instantly hit with a memory of the youngest member on his fireteam. They were not too dissimilar, he realized with an ache. He knew that if he could do something to save his fireteam, he would. Only being able to watch their doom was one of his biggest regrets.

“Asher, you must hurry!” Eris urged.

Asher then turned his gaze toward his cousin. They had been through so much as Guardians, with the shared trauma over the years, and helping each other recover. He was immeasurably grateful to her, and he could almost not bear to see how she still went through so much for him by carrying a burden that weighed her down.

“Eris,” he whispered. It was all but inaudible. He was vaguely aware of a warm sensation on his cheeks, spilling from his eyes. He forced himself to clear his throat. “Take care, Eris. I will lead them away.”

Asher stepped away from the tunnel. He raised his rifle, facing the first of the thrall as they spilled into the chamber.

Ever since the incident, he’d grown increasingly frustrated with the sensation that he was simply losing a long battle, and the Vex would win in the end without him ever accomplishing anything. Dead fireteam, dead Ghost, useless Asher.

In contrast, he decided, this was not a bad way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, some of the words I used for this chapter were completely made up.
> 
> One issue I had with the scene where Eris is meditating, I'd been working from the assumption that her Hive eyes are always open (after all, for the third one, an eyelid shouldn't even exist right?) That way, it would be very hard to tell whether she was awake or asleep. But taking a closer look at one of the lore cards, it says all three eyes do close. So...that's interesting. Again, I only realized that after completing the chapter.
> 
> Oh, and I still haven't thought up a clever -ometer name for Asher's other device. A little ooc for him not to have something super scientific-sounding, but oh well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eris is typical Eris. Yes, that means kicking butt.

The Taken filled the cavern with shrieks and howls of hunger, with their longing to corrupt and consume. Darkness spread from them like a void, sucking away light and warmth and overtaking the edges of the small cave. Eris gasped in the wave of coldness that overtook her, making her head spin and her limbs feel stiff and frozen. It was all the more sickening for how familiar it was.

Years ago, a younger Eris traveled with a fireteam deep into the Hellmouth to exact their revenge on the Hive ruler, Crota. But they underestimated the power of the Hive, did not foresee their betrayal, and in the Darkness were picked off one by one. Eris herself was nearly overtaken by the Deathsong, and would have joined the chorus of her own doom were it not for Brya, her Ghost. Her friend and closest companion used herself to help Eris escape, to survive. In the time following, she clung to the memory of Brya’s last words, filled with love and sorrow.

Now, she was hearing the same unmistakable goodbye in Asher’s voice. She heard the fear, saw how he hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, and let his eyes linger on hers for one last moment. Then, he was gone.

Her cousin left the shelter of the tunnel. He raised his rifle and aimed it at the thrall. The shadows made everything hard to see, and their flickering forms were agile, but he still managed to hit one. It shrieked and fizzled, disappearing with a snap. Two more took its place, and in the blink of an eye, duplicated themselves. The entrance of the cavern began to fill up. 

Asher did not flinch. Time seemed to slow down as Eris watched. He always was too selfless for his own good, a memory from somewhere within Eris echoed. And all at once, the ice within her limbs melted away as a hot fire of rage and grief blazed within her chest.

She did not care how noble his sacrifice, nor for the courage he offered. He did not deserve to pay the price. The Darkness did not deserve to keep winning, to keep taking people from her.

With a roar, she leapt from the tunnel where she was crouched and grabbed Asher’s collar, using her momentum to propel them both behind a crevice jutting out from the opposite wall. Just as she did this, the Taken thrall pounced at the spot Asher had been. They were fast. Angry, loud. Dead.

Eris’s eyes had no trouble seeing the vulnerabilities in their unstable forms, and her bullets found the heads of the closest three.  
Beside her, Asher gasped. She did not have to look at him to know there would be confusion, relief, and annoyance on his face.

“What do you think—” He began.

Eris cut him off. “I do not need your permission for anything, let alone to rescue you,” she hissed.

Her stunt bought them a minute or two, but the ogre was still coming. They had little to their advantage, and it would take more bullets and revivals than either of them could afford in order to end the monster.

Instead of despair, Eris felt the blaze insider her grow all the more fierce, scorching her lungs and clearing her mind.

Every breath I have drawn since the Hellmouth…no, since my first resurrection, has been in defiance. I will not stop now.

Eris forced herself to be still, despite the siege of panic trying to convince her to focus on the enormous ogre. It stepped farther into the cavern, opening its maw with a deep, throaty cry that overwhelmed the small area and echoed off the sharp stones. Underneath its feet, the cracks in the rock still shone faintly with Traveler’s Light.

Eris found herself almost smiling with a quiet, deadly certainty.

The Darkness’s greatest weakness—from the Sword Logic of the Hive to the machinoforming of the Vex—was that despite the charade of superiority, in the end it was capable of nothing but destruction. It had been the end of many things, and it would not itself be an exception.

Her three eyes, limited in many ways by their Hive nature, also allowed her a level of perception she would not have otherwise. The Traveler’s Light ran through the foundations of the cave like veins, and she could see where it was strong regardless of the amount of sediment or stone blocking it. She could also see where the roots of the stone were thin and weak.

Drawing her handcannon, a weapon with a relatively high impact despite its size, Eris stepped around the crevice and hit the ogre at an angle, drawing its attention away from her hiding spot and at a section of the cave floor. A section that was particularly riddled with cracks, weak and brittle.

The ogre screamed in rage. It blasted a surge of white fire in the direction it detected the origin of the offending bullets. Underneath its rampage, the rock continued to splinter and weaken.

Yet it remained intact as the ogre’s attention wavered and it turned again toward Asher’s hiding place. Eris gritted her teeth, unable to keep back a snarl as she swung herself forward and fired at the ogre again. With each shot, it got angrier and continued to pound the floor where it thought Eris was.

This time, the ground rumbled, and pieces could be heard tumbling off the walls and ceiling. When she heard a shriek just behind her shoulder, Eris realized with a shudder she had exposed herself too much, and the two remaining thrall were upon her. She whirled, narrowly avoiding the claws that raked the air where her neck had been. Her tendons groaned at the speed of her maneuver, causing her to wince and bite her lip, but she had no time to process or do anything but focus on avoiding the next strike.

A pop came from behind her, and the next thing she knew, the Taken thrall was on the ground, legless and writhing. From the shadows, she saw Asher raise the sights on his rifle.

It gave her enough time to draw her knife, slitting the middle of the second Taken thrall. She almost missed. Her footing shifted as the floor of the cave continued to shudder.

Asher fired again, and the little Taken was gone with a burst of paracausal energy. 

Everything quieted. The ogre had stopped firing. There was a crater in the floor where it had been directing its anger, glowing with heat and with escaping Light, but still infuriatingly intact.

Only a little more, Eris thought. Her hand cannon was nearly empty, and she guessed the ogre’s patience was at its limit. There was no time to waste in second-guessing.

Grasping the blade with two fingers, Eris flung her knife directly at the ogre’s head, planting herself in its field of view. The knife, she saw with satisfaction, was lodged in the white orb at the center of its face from which it fired, temporarily preventing it from blasting in her direction. It roared in pain.

“You have failed to kill me,” Eris yelled at it, gaining the Taken giant’s undivided focus. “You will fail again. Come meet your end.”

The ogre howled, splitting the air with the volume of its cry, and stepped forward, blindly trying to reach Eris. As its massive foot stomped in the center of the crater it had formed, the surrounding rock finally shattered, collapsing inward. The Light of the Traveler, once trapped within the network of stone, sprayed outward like a fountain as the ogre fell through the opening. 

Its howl turned into shrieking, which grew fainter as it was overtaken by the pit.  
The land continued to spill downward, and Eris grabbed at the nearest stone to recapture her balance.

Eventually, the noise subsided. The cavern was significantly more treacherous with loose shale and a floor that had been pulled downward into a gaping hole. The inside of the pit swirled with blueish light and mist, obscuring both the length of the fall and whatever was below. 

Eris panted, finding herself only able to focus on the simplest of actions. In, out. Each breath was a testament to her victory, and the Takens’ loss.

“Eris! Eris, are you alright?”  
Asher’s desperate shout caused her to look up. With a groan, she pulled herself upright and began making her way back to him. Her back ached, and her joints protested.

“I am alright,” she whispered as Asher stumbled to meet her. He dropped his rifle, grabbing her hand. From farther behind, the Hidden Warlock emerged from his hiding place, visibly shaking and eyes wide.

Eris allowed Asher to guide her back to the cave, where the ground was the most stable. They were silent for some moments—a remarkable feat for Asher, Eris thought.  
Her cousin was stubborn, every bit a kindred spirit, and…

“How could you be so foolish?” Eris growled, hauling Asher up by his collar and fixing his bright blue eyes with a glare. The wrinkles on his face were drawn with confusion and astonishment.

“Foolish?” He returned indignantly. “I have never—"

“You thought you could save us by giving your life up. Where would we have been then? There would only have been fewer of us to hold them at bay. Our light would only have dwindled.”

Eris’s hand, still holding him up, trembled. With anger. With relief. 

“I have no one else like you, Asher. No one who understands what the Darkness has put us through, and still fights it despite the pain and the trauma it has caused. You must continue to live. To fight, no matter what you think your odds are. That is the only way…the only thing we can do.”

She took a breath, and spoke so quietly she could barely hear herself. “You cannot tell me good-bye like that.” 

Asher looked down. “I…I’m sorry. It appears I…let it get to me,” he swallowed, and continued. “You’re right. I will live. I will be determined to live. I’d been facing this threat so long, I’d nearly forgotten. But no matter how infected I become, no matter my chances, I will not surrender again.”

Eris was aware of how much he struggled to be honest. Her grip loosened, and suddenly she released his collar only to wrap her arms around him. She buried her face in his shoulder. It was the one attached to the Vex arm, and she could feel the cold metal on one cheek alongside Asher’s own warmth.

He grunted uncomfortably but didn’t stop her. She knew her armor was not suitable for embraces and let go.

“We have one battle yet before us,” she said quietly, watching Asher’s eyes drift toward his arm. “Let us show them what it means to make enemies of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this how any principles of physics work? Who knows and who cares? Not me. 
> 
> The betrayal mentioned is referring to Toland the Shattered. Dude was up to some shady stuff. 
> 
> Oh, and I was not keeping track of the amount of Taken thrall. If it doesn't add up, the reason would be my math did not happen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interesting letter addressed to Ikora.

Ikora,

I have returned from my mission to monitor the condition of the Gensym Scribe. I was able to confirm your fears that the infection spread to a dangerous degree (not that he yielded the information easily). My investigation was interrupted, however, with the arrival of Eris Morn, who brought with her artifacts from the moon detailing a new understanding of the power of our enemies. She made known her intention to use the spell, Hive in origin, to stop the advance of the Vex. As it was yet untested, an agreement was made to write out the spell within the construct of a Vex underling. In the radiolarian liquid, the glyph was transcribed with a Hive stylus, and the effect was carefully monitored. I have attached multiple documents detailing the procedure and analysis of the experiment. Despite the potential setbacks, our limited knowledge of Hive arcana, and the lack of access to their realm where the spells originate, the radiolaria bore convincing signs that the spell was a success. One I found most compelling was how the normally luminous liquid was dimmed and unresponsive. When you give the attached summary of the experiment your careful examination, I am sure you will see the significance of Eris’s discovery. She and the Gensym Scribe will be returning to the Tower soon to proceed with the planned operation.

In the service of the Vanguard  
Hidden operative  
Shua

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this even count as a chapter??? It's so short...
> 
> This is officially the last we hear from Shua. Yay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eris contemplates the meaning of victory as her friend recovers.

Eris rested in a creaky, worn chair by one of the windows. Night had fallen outside, and the glass only reflected the stale lights of the room. But for the steady, rhythmic sounds of a heart monitor and other machines attached to the Awoken man’s bed, the med bay was still and silent.

Eris had hardly moved from her place by his side as he recovered. The recent procedure, which removed the fused metal implements from the flesh around his shoulder, meant a prolonged stay at the Tower in the Last City—the longest he’d spent since first waking up after the accident. In the aftermath, Asher and Eris had gone their separate ways. There had been more enemies to fight, more battles across the system which demanded attention. And of course, both found the City walls far too stifling.

Now, at last, they returned together. The journey had been silent, although it wasn’t exactly apprehensive. For all Asher’s complaints about the Vanguard, Ikora had his trust. But Eris still knew he was afraid. If he weren’t, he’d have been lamenting about the length of the trip, the noise of the jump ship, or something else. He was happiest when he had something to complain about. But his uncharacteristic silence when they broke through the atmosphere, City lights reflecting on the platinum sides of the ship, did not go unnoticed to Eris. The success of the experiment weighed heavily on him. She suspected he hadn’t truly considered the possibility of being free from the Vex infection.

Eris’s eyes wandered to the white bandages that wound about his shoulder and chest. When she’d first visited him in the med bay, years ago, she’d been alarmed to see the Vex machinoforming at her friend’s side. Now, there was nothing in its place but the bandages. They well concealed the mess of irritated skin underneath, where the appendage had frayed and blistered skin it was attached to. Healing would be no easy or painless process.

Yet it was possible now.

Just before boarding Eris’s jump ship, leaving the mottled ochre and cerulean canyons of Io behind, the Gensym Scribe paused to gaze pensively out at the horizon.

“Some miles south of our latitude here,” he told Eris, in a tone devoid of his usual impatience or condescension. “Lies the Pyramidion.”

She nodded. A den of Vex constructs and machinations, it was for him what the Hellmouth was for her. Into the Pyramidion his fireteam descended. Only he returned, forever changed.

“The Genesis Mind has been destroyed.”

“Death was too good for the likes of that adversary,” Asher said. “Though I rejoiced at the time when I heard Brakion fell.”  
He paused, lifting his bronze right arm. “Somehow I cannot think of a better revenge than this. Undoing his work once and for all.”

Yes, Eris thought back as she regarded the sleeping Asher before her. His one remaining hand rested on his chest, as it rose and fell with a calming consistency.

That is revenge. That is our victory, our triumph. Healing and living despite how useless or painful it seems at times. We hold on. 

EPILOGUE

Asher cursed at the wind which tugged at the straps of his leather bag and fought to hold it open with one hand. He did not miss the Vex prosthetic that had replaced his right arm in the slightest, but he wouldn’t go far as to say life was easy without it.

Eventually, he flipped the bag around long enough to yank out the pair of binoculars that were inside, grumbling at how long it had taken him.

It had been some months since the Vex arm had been removed and the radiolaria inside banished to a harmless silence. Asher been able to record no serious side effects, to his great relief. He further found that his breathing had gradually become easier as the stiffness in his lungs faded. His routine blood tests still returned a pinkish-white, but each sample was slightly darker and contained more red cells than the sample before, so he predicted an eventual return to normalcy there as well.

His greatest setback was having to learn to do things one-handed. Correction: doing things one-handed while still upholding his stubborn commitment to not ask anyone for help with anything.

But even this, he admitted, he was getting better at.

Bringing the binoculars up, Asher scanned the cloudy horizon, which was turning a dark, bruised gray. Telltale signs of a storm on Io.

He’d returned to the Jovian moon a handful of times since his recovery, determined more than ever to lead the advance against the Vex. This time, however, he ventured out beyond the familiar terrain to investigate reports of a new kind of invasion. Dark pyramids had been spotted approaching Mars, Mercury, and Titan in addition to Io. Seemingly random and scattered locations. But the appearance of the mysterious ships was closely correlated with the arrival of humanity’s greatest enemy when they caused the Great Collapse many hundreds of years ago. Asher did not take them lightly, and Io was his turf.

Adjusting the focus on the binocs, he caught a glimpse of something dark in the clouds, hovering just above a deep valley in the distance. It was angular, large, and even from there Asher could feel its ominous energy.

Of course, he dismissed subjective evidence such as “bad feelings” or hunches. Its effect would have to be quantified and examined objectively.

“If you’re after the secrets of the Vex, you’re out of luck. The Pyramidion has been abandoned,” Asher muttered, returning his binocs to their bag. “But as long as you’re here, I may as well get some experimenting done. Tower intel could use a competent report, unlike whatever the Hidden are up to.”

Before anything else, however, he knew he ought to call in the sighting.

“What is it?” Came the voice on the other side of the transmitter channel. The voice was low, the tone cutting. Yet there was never a more welcome one to Asher’s ears.

“Eris,” he answered. “My return to Io has confirmed the reports. I have a sighting of one of the unknown ships everyone is calling Pyramids.”

“They have arrived, then,” Her sigh was muted, but heavy with many years.

“We’ll guarantee that they get more of a fight than they bargained for.”

“We won’t just fight,” Eris stated.

“No,” Asher returned with a smirk. “We’ll win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my big middle finger to the current canon, haha. Especially the Duress and Egress lore book.  
> There is hope and optimism instead of edgy despair. Asher is safe, and the Pyramidion is empty so there's no half-assed excuse for Asher to stay behind in a suicidal effort to stop the Darkness from accessing the Vex powers. (Ugh, I just reread the Conclusion lore tab to figure out what the lake was called and was reminded of how mean Bungie is to Asher. Anyway.)  
> If you read through this whole thing, thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out, making room for a game expansion is NOT really one of the most satisfying reasons out there to kill off a character. I am also extremely tired of the trope where the author doesn't know how to help or save a damaged character so just ends up killing them. Asher deserves so much better.
> 
> So, this is essentially my headcanon for what happens to Asher Mir. I'm trying to write this as close to canon as possible while still of course diverging from the Evacuation/Duress and Egress lore released in anticipation of the Beyond Light expansion this year. 
> 
> I have tried to do as much research as I could into game lore and character backgrounds, but will inevitably end up with inaccuracies. This is also my first time publishing on Ao3, so there's a lot I'm still figuring out. I hope you'll bear with me.


End file.
